Act V: 'Into the Sewers'

[Priest]

Act V: 'Into the Sewers'

Carstairs and Carstairs Expeditionary Outfiters is a rather small and unasuming concern off Piedmont Street, by off it can be found in a rather dingy alley just off the main thorougfare. Apart from a rather impressive, if garish, sign above its unimpressive entrance it hardly reaches the expectations invoked by Roxborough's earlier description.

Opening the door into a rather small room filled with boxes and barrels of all shapes and sixes, is accompanied by the rich tinkling of the overhanging bell. Which in turn is followed by a rather gruff Scottish voice,
"Aye and how can we be helping ye?"

OOC:   Please consider what items you might require in your hunt for the creature. Let me know what you would like, and I will tell you if its available. Sensible sugestions please

[Tabs]

"Um--waders, yes, waders and a water proof coat?" asks Klevendon.

[Priest]

Previously Klevendon said:   "Um--waders, yes, waders and a water proof coat?".

In response to your query, a rather tall, rangy figure with a large ginger beard steps out from behind the counter, rumages around in a pile of boxes and produces several pairs of rubberised wading boots of the type much favoured by anglers, and a sellection of waterproof coats of various colours.
"Yer size laddie? Although I dinnae think we will have much bother fitting such a fine figure of a gentleman as yersen".

Hands firmly planted on hips, legs astride in as an explorerly a manner as can be expected, the shopkeeper eyes the group of you in an expert manner.
"Angus Birtwhistle McTavish, how may we be assisting ye today?"

For a moment or two he eyes Nellie, whistles softly, and raising his left hand scratches at the thick gingery growth.
"If it be clothing suitable for an expedition to the ice or to the desert sands, Carstairs and Carstairs has, or can get, everything. For ye fine gentlemen this is nae a problem, however suitable ladies atire may take a while"

[Tabs]

"Medium, Mr. McTavish," answers Klevendon to the ginger fellow, feeling pleased by the compliments. "No sand or ice for us today, sir, just waterproof clothing." He glances at Miss Bly, still unhappy about a woman in trousers and waders.

[carnage_lee]

Nellie shakes her head in exasperation... "This is no time for 'stick in the mud attitudes' I am not venturing our unless I have suitable attire." She looks around the shop... "You must have outfitted a small man... or boy... something in that size ought to suffice. We shall also be needing some safety lanterns..." she looks encouragingly at the others hoping they have requests for equipment to aid their perilous expedition.

[Priest]

McTavish eyes Nellie with a critical eye, "Indeed, aye, we may have something of the necessary size to fit ye young lady, and we do indeed have safety lanterns including the new Gyroscopic Electricity Lantern. So called as it works from a kind of perpetual motion, once charged by activation of the rotary gyroscope it is said never to fail. Providing light until the gyroscope is halted"
He bends to drag a dust covered box from a lower shelf from within he withdraws something of outrageous proportions and of a sickly yellow colour, something that would necessitate the carrying with both hands.
"This be the lantern" he pulls a large metal container and harness from within the same box, "This be the gyroscope system as you can see it is quite bulky and is carried by means of this canvas and leather harness. It looks a little cumbersome but I am assured it works excellently" he pauses as if awaiting your thoughts, "Or, ye can have the standard oil hurricane safety lamps, as long as they have oil they will work"

He gives a resigned sigh, "Right, if I ken what kind of expedition ye would be about, I may be able to suggest a few necessities"

[carnage_lee]

Nellie smiles in gratitude at McTavish as he indicate that she can be outfitted as required. Her eyebrow raises looking at the cumbersome contraption that he then proceeds to pull off the shelf, noting the amount of dust that has accumulated on the lid she draws that conclusion that the cleaners employed at the shop were incredibly shoddy or, and more realistically, that McTavish had been trying to sell the contraption for some considerable time indeed. "Goodness... I don't think we should need anything as bulky as that... perhaps you might have some shuttered lanterns available, instead? she enquires politely.

[Priest]

Previously Nellie said:   "Goodness... I don't think we should need anything as bulky as that... perhaps you might have some shuttered lanterns available, instead?

McTavish sighs at Nellies words, and with a slight shake of his head replaces the 'lantern' in its dust covered box.

"Here Miss" he slides another box across the counter. Inside can be seen the more regular shape of a lantern its solitary glass lens like a souless eye.

"Is this the kind you will be after?"

Roxborough, having spent some time in deep thought, gently srokes his large moustache, "Rope, we will be needing some rope"

"Aye" answers the Scotsman, brightening up, "How much rope will ye be needing?"

[carnage_lee]

Nellie nods as the more familiar lantern is produced by McTavish "Thank you, just the ticket; I think we shall be requiring two of those and enough oil to last us for ..." Nellie taps her lip, how long would be reasonable... how long would the hunt take? "... would you agree twelve hours for each lantern, Peter?" Nellie asks of their hunting expert.

[Priest]

Roxborough, still engrossed in the need for suitable rope, nods, "The lanterns would seem eminently suitable and as you say oil for twelve hours each would suffice, I imagine"
He looks at the Scotsman, "About 100ft would do it, I dare say. And your finest hemp please, none of that cheap American mixture stuff"
For several seconds he peruses Wellington, who he thinks must have either died of apoplexy or be deep in some trance like thought process. "And animal cages of some description".
He is muttering to himself as he turns away, "We need to create some kind of trap"

Roxborough thinking:   After all,trap the thing, then kill it, hang it and cook it later when time permits

He can feel his mouth moistening at the thought.

[Tabs]

" 'Animal cages'!" laughs Klevendon at Roxborough; "even if Mr. McT-- the Scottish person sells them, how on Earth are we to move them?" he snorts derisively. Then he adds: "How about a crowbar? for gratings and whatnot."

[Priest]

Looking a trifle hurt at Klevendon's scornful dismissal of his suggestion, Roxborough shrugs, "I wasn't suggesting we should carry the traps, Mr Klevendon, rather that we might find a way of setting a trap at one end of a sewer pipe, closing off any side exits and beating the creature towards it. I have used a similar technique when hunting tiger in India, mountain lions in the Americas etc."

He looks towards Nellie, as if seeking her approval, "What were you thinking, Mr Klevendon, that we simply stroll around the length and breadth of the London sewers untill we come face to face with the mysterious creature?"
With a wry smile he continues, "Or I could simply position myself at an exit with my rifle, and wait for you to hunt the creature to me. A system much favoured on the grouse moors of Scotland."

[Tabs]

Klevendon stutters at the suggestion he do any hunting: "You are more than capable I'm sure, Mr. Roxborough."

[Priest]

McTavish senses the atmosphere in the room and with a storekeepers tact, "So its a wee hunting trip then is it, in the sewers of London? Very nasty. If it's one of yon fabled crocodiles that are said to infest the sewers, then ye'll be needing a large cage to hold the thing"

He turns to Nellie and favours her with a large wink, "It is said that the crocodiles have grown down there after they were released into the sewers by negligent pet keepers. And that, in some cases, they have grown to several hundred feet in length. Of course it's but a story and I myself have little truck with such fables"

"However, if ye be on a hunt..." again he reaches into a dust covered box several shelves up from the floor, from within he produces a triangular shaped device of brass and leather, upon one end of which something resembling an old fashioned hearing trumpet has been attached. "This is the Stonway Tracking Device it is said to respond to the tiniest of changes in air pressure, allowing the holder to track the movement of all manner of animal. It is this months special and can be yours for the introductory price of seven pounds and three shillings"
Seeing the doubt in your eyes, he returns the device to its box, "Crowbars we have aplenty, large or will ye be needing the smaller prybar sort?"

[Tabs]

"Gosh," exclaims Klevendon, "I really don't know?--the larger crowbar I think," he looks enquiringly at the others. "As for the Stonway Tracking Device , it sounds just the ticket, wouldn't you agree, Mr. Roxborough? I say, sir"--directed at McTavish--"the device does work, doesn't it?"

[Papa Gateau]

Ah yes! A splendid idea, I do believe we will take the Stonway Tracking Device. Would you be so good as to instruct my good friend Mr. Klevendon in it's use, Mr. McTavish. He is somewhat of a novice in the art of hunting, I think he will benefit from any advantage that we can give him.

Now, remember my friends, this little trip to the sewers is a dry run, as it were, an orientation to so that you become familiar to hunting in subterranean environments before our expedition to the fabled Hercules caves of Morocco.

Now Mr.McTavish, let's have no more talk of crocodiles eh? Whilst I have fearlessly faced and dined on those prehistoric beasts my colleagues are all new to the art of hunting and are already a little nervous. Let's not give them any unfounded fears eh?

Roxborough thinking:   Hopefully that will throw him of the scent! We don't really want anyone knowing that we are entering the sewers and what we are doing down there.

Mr. McTavish, should your equipment be up to standard and of a reasonable price, I will be sure to use your good establishment to equip our party's expedition to Marocco. Roxborough jingles the coins in his pocket and smiles.

[Priest]

Previously Roxborough said:   Mr. McTavish, should your equipment be up to standard and of a reasonable price, I will be sure to use your good establishment to equip our party's expedition to Marocco.

"Indeed it is sir, of the very best. 'Whatever, wherever, whenever' be our establishments motto, and tis nay hot air and blather, you order it and we will supply it and ship it to the destination of your choice for a wee shipping charge of ten percent"

McTavish almost leaps to regain the Stonway device from it's box, "This device as said measures changes in air pressure and thus is able to track any movement within its proximity. By holding it in front of the hunting party ye are assured that any reading it displays upon this dial..." he indicates a large circular dial which has been divided into degrees, "... is of something other than party members"
He steps closer to Klevendon, so that the antiquarian might better see the modus operandi, "This be the on/off switch" he flicks a brass toggle switch and the device suddenly emits a greenish glow from the dial area and emits a faint hum.
He then passes his hand back and forth several inches in front of the Stonway. As he moves it the device emits a series of low clicks. The closer he gets to the trumpet appendage the more rapid the clicks become. On the dial a black spot can be seen mirroring the movement accompanied by a series of numbers that show the distance the object is from the device.
"According to the instruction booklet yon device has a range of six hundred yards ample to spot a charging Rhinocerous, or one of those recently discovered walking, man eating plant things which like to creep up on the unwary. Carstairs and Carstairs have supplied several sets of the Stonway to various expeditions and have received nay complaints as to their efficacy"

[Tabs]

"Excellent," beams Klevendon. He whispers to Roxborough: " 'Morocco,' sir?"

[Papa Gateau]

Roxborough leans towards to Klevendon and whispers back "Laying a false trail my friend".

He winks conspiratorially.

[Priest]

McTavish, produces a notebook and a tiny nub of a pencil, he licks the end, "So let me see. Ye'll be wanting crowbars, rope, lanterns and fuel,a cage of unspecified dimensions and yon Stonway, waders and suitable clothing for the young lady?"

He writes everything down in large, illegible letters as he speaks. The concentration easily apparent on his features, where not covered by a profusion of ginger hair of course.
"No problem sir, will ye be needing anything else, camping equiptment for example? Do you wish this delivered or will Ye be taking it now?"

He turns at last to Roxborough, "Shall I be sending the bill to the usual place sir?"

OOC:   Sadly we seem to have misplaced Wellington. I know that Dr P is having a busy time in RL at the moment. When he returns if there was any equipment that he sees a need for, I will asume that it was supplied by Carstairs and Carstairs. The same thing aplies to all of you, within reason. So when you are ready please proceed to your next location.